The Weatherman
by Crowdreamer
Summary: Post-season 9: Scully is accused of a horrendous crime. Did she do it? If so, why? When Mulder finds out the answers, he discovers that the situation is more personal and horrific than he could ever imagine.
1. Chapter 1

Setting: Post-Season 9 (about 6 years later), Pre-IWTB

Spoilers: _William, _possibly _The Truth, Provenance, Providence,_

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter One**

Part 1.

Blue eyes stared down at the weapon before her—a nine-millimeter pistol still in its case. She picked it up and studied it, running one hand down the smooth barrel. Forcefully, she screwed the silencer onto the end of the gun, and stuck it in her holster, which was hidden behind her floor-length black leather coat. Studying the photo of her target, she prepared to move in for the kill.

She knew the door would be open, and that the hunted man was asleep in his bed by now, and so there was no need to kick the door in or sneak in through a window. Instead, she walked boldly in and marched upstairs to the bedroom, gun drawn and held up close to her head, for easy aiming in the near future. But she knew she would not wordlessly shoot right away, while he slept. No, that was too easy a death for this man. He needed to know why he was dying, and he needed to suffer.

Part 2.

Mulder awoke to a rather pushy knocking at the door. He rubbed his eyes while glancing at the clock—3:22 a.m. Surely nobody benevolent could be coming to visit at this hour. As the knocks got louder, he threw on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and dug around in the dresser for the gun he had not used in years. The knocking became more and more insistent the longer he took.

Peeking through the keyhole, he was surprised to see a face he had not expected to see again—and surely not under these circumstances. Now he _knew_ it could only be bad news. He put down the gun and opened the door for Walter Skinner.

Not sure whether to hug him or shake his hand, Mulder chose a middle ground—a partial hug with hand extended, and said, sleep still apparent in his voice, "Sir, what are you doing here?"

"Sorry to wake you, Mulder. Can I come in?"

Mulder stepped back to let the man enter the house he shared with Scully. "It's been…years…I don't know how long, Sir. Did I win the lottery or something?"

Skinner cracked a smile for a second but did not snicker. "I'm afraid it's bad news, Mulder. Do you know where Scully is?"

Confused, Mulder looked around as if she was supposed to be there, but answered, "Yeah, at a convention. Why?"

Skinner's eyes were too serious for Mulder. "Wrong," he said.

"What do you mean?" Mulder was beginning to feel panicked. "Where is she? Is she okay?" His mind began to run through the next steps—putting on clothes, packing a bag if needed, rushing in his car to her aid…

"She's fine." The silence over the next few seconds was unbearable. "She's in jail, Mulder."

Confusion set in quickly. "Jail? Why?"

The next words Skinner uttered almost knocked Mulder to the floor. "She killed an unarmed man, in cold blood."

_Author's comments: This one is a big change of pace for me. All stories start with the question: What if? This one began with a question in my mind: What could cause Scully to murder someone? She did it in _Orison, _but she was also fighting for her life right before she shot him. Would she really hunt someone down and kill them? If so, what would cause her to do it? The answers are just ahead._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's notes: Seems like it's been forever since I've written. Sorry, lots going on at home, all good, just keeping me busy with "real life." But it's time to get back into the creative process and get the story moving once again. _

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter 2**

Part 1.

When Mulder entered the dark, cold jail cell, it took a minute for his eyes to adjust. He scanned the tiny room and spotted a barren bed containing nothing but a mattress and the small, curled up frame of a woman wearing an orange jumpsuit. "Scully?" he said, not believing that this fragile-looking figure could be her.

But as soon as she rolled over to the sound of his voice, he could see a glint of long, red hair and he knew he had the right cell. "Mulder," she croaked, and began to silently sit up on the edge of her bed.

As soon as recognition set in, he rushed to the bed-slash-cot and sat down next to her. He tried to connect his eyes to hers, but she would not look at him. He settled with taking her hand gently in his. "Scully, what happened?"

"I killed a man, Mulder."

He knew the official story—that she had crept into a man's house in the middle of the night last night, beat him brutally, the abuse bordering on torture, and then shot this completely defenseless person right between the eyes with a silenced pistol. But he could not believe that this woman that he loved, this woman who worked so hard every day saving lives, was capable of such an act. Surely she was not in her right mind—perhaps she had been drugged, or had been brainwashed in some way. Or maybe she had been coerced by powerful unknown figures—from the government? He had to find out, if he was going to help her defend herself in court. "What happened, Scully?" he asked once again. "Help me out-tell me why this happened."

But she did not answer. Instead, she sat in silence for what seemed an eternity, staring at the floor. Finally, she shook her head and said, "I can't, Mulder." Before he had a chance to protest, she said, "It's too horrible…I can't. If you want to know what happened, there's a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet." Her voice was almost a whisper. "You'll find part of the story there."

Part 2.

It took some convincing, but she finally talked Mulder into leaving her alone for the time being. She did not deserve his company right now. She was utterly and totally disgusted with herself, even if she felt that she had no other option than to do what she did. Now she replayed in her mind the events that led up to the killing.

Two months ago, she came home to an empty house, Mulder having gone on a trip to visit with some MUFON members. She checked the mailbox to find an unmarked manila envelope. Puzzled, she ripped open one end of it to reveal the contents inside—a picture of a boy who looked to be about five or six years old. He looked thin and fragile, with an expression that was more serious than any boy that age should be wearing. He was posed standing with arms straight down by his side, a white wood-sided house in the background.

She stared at the picture for a minute, and then looked inside to see what else the envelope contained. At first, she thought it was empty, but then saw a little slip of white paper at the bottom. After pulling it out and unfolding it, she read the typewritten words, "He needs your help."

Scully held up the picture of the young boy again, and as she stared at it, she became more and more certain that she knew those eyes. It would take some research, of course, but the hazel eyes staring up at her could only be one person's—William.

Part 3.

It took Scully several days to find out what happened to her son after she gave him up for adoption, and several weeks to gather his history. She did not have the connections she once did. The Lone Gunmen helped, although she was reluctant to use them, as she was afraid that word of her research would get back to Mulder.

And although it would be nice to have his support when bringing up the painful events surrounding her life-changing decision to give up their son, she felt that this was something she needed to do on her own. After all, it may turn out to be nothing—a hoax, or worse, someone trying to get to her by using her past against her.

She discovered that their son, William, had been adopted by a couple named Noah and Lisa Vandecamp. They were country folk, and had a beautiful, quaint farmhouse on plentiful acreage. When Scully found this bit of information, she felt relief at the thought of William running freely on wheat-filled lands. Images filled her mind—of the boy's face lighting up in wonder at discovering newly-hatched chicks, or swimming in a wild creek, or watching his father milk a cow.

But tragically, Noah had died in a car accident when William was only four years old, and Lisa quickly re-married. Scully imagined that the woman must have been intimidated by living as a single mother in a male-dominated culture. Living in rural Virginia, she must have felt the need to find someone to support her. And so she met Rick Dupont, a mechanic in the nearby town of Halifax. Things were quiet for a while, and then, last year, the Virginia Child Protective Services investigated an anonymous tip about abuse in the home. The claim was found unsubstantiated, and the investigation was dropped. Scully could not find out any more details about the allegations that had been made, because the records were sealed.

After finding out part of the truth, however, Scully could not stop just because the information was not available to her. She had to know what was happening with her son, even if she had to take extreme measures to discover what that was.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's notes: Okay so I'm sorry this is coming out so slowly. I usually write madly until I am done with a story, but a couple of days ago I hit my sweet, precious cat with my car, and I have been grieving horribly for her ever since. Writing is usually therapeutic for me, but I have to get motivated to do it and I have been very lacking in willpower. So this one is for you, Oreo—I will miss you._

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter 3**

Part 1.

"Billy…Billy!" Lisa twisted around in her chair, trying to get her son to settle down and sit in his seat instead of climbing over it. She was about to raise her voice when a door opened and a nurse stepped out.

"Billy? Billy Vandecamp?"

"That's us," Lisa said to her son.

The nurse led them down a long hall to an examination room, where she took his vital signs and informed Lisa that the doctor would be right in. Lisa tried to settle in, but she couldn't stop moving her feet. She was nervous about seeing a new doctor, but she needed someone to give Billy a well-child exam before he went to Kindergarten. The teacher had recommended this doctor to her.

Billy was getting into the latex examination gloves when the doctor entered—a short woman with medium-length reddish hair. "Hi, I'm Dr. Scully," she said. "And this must be Billy?"

"Billy!" said Lisa. "Turn around and say hi to your new doctor."

But he was too busy playing with the gloves to comply.  
"I'm sorry," said Lisa.

"It's okay." Dr. Scully turned to the boy and said, "Billy, can I show you this really cool instrument over here? I use it to look into your ears and eyes." He stopped what he was doing, but did not turn towards her just yet. "It has lights on it."

That got his attention, and he agreed to sit on the exam table and allowed her to show him the fascinating gadget. While she conducted the exam, she directed some of her questions towards Lisa, but she also talked a lot to Billy, and that made Lisa nervous.

"Billy, how are things at home? Do you have any pets? Do you like your room?"

Her son refused to answer most of the questions, but then she asked one that he was willing to talk about. "How did you get all these big bruises on your back?"

"I-I-I was playing, and I fell down on a rock."

Dr. Scully glanced at Lisa. "Is that how he got these?" Lisa did not like the higher pitch of the doctor's question.

"I…yeah. That's what happened. He's accident-prone, just like any other boy, I guess."

Dr. Scully's voice got quieter. "Okay. Billy, do you get hurt a lot?"

Lisa did not like this line of questioning, not at all. Even though Billy did not seem interested in answering, she was going to make sure that he didn't. "Does he check out? I mean, is he good to go to school?"

"Yeah," said Dr. Scully. "Yeah, he's fine." Turning to the boy, she said, "Would you like a sucker, Billy?"

His head bobbed up and down, and Lisa could not help notice that a glint in Dr. Scully's eyes as she smiled at Billy. Lisa decided she could not bring Billy back here again—this doctor was too intrusive, and there were too many things about Billy that nobody should know.

Part 2.

Scully could still remember the stabbing sensation in her heart when she examined her only child that day. At first, he looked at her with awe at the fact that before him stood a real live doctor. He gave himself to her in an easy way, but he still saw her as a stranger.

The first thing she noticed was the rippling of the muscles in his tiny arms and legs and chest. He seemed extraordinarily strong for a child of his age. And then she saw the bruises on his back, and she knew something was not quite right. This was not a place she would expect to find such extensive bruising, and when she touched his back, he flinched as if expecting something negative to come from her touch. But she could not find any other red flags during her examination, and his mother was elusive, so she had to let it drop.

She looked into his ears, and then his eyes, and as she did, she suddenly caught him looking at her in a different way. His eyes were wide, as if something had surprised him. She backed her head up slightly, but kept looking into his eyes. And then his mouth opened, and she realized that the expression on his face was one of recognition.

But neither of them said a thing. After all, Scully could not very well imagine that he truly knew who she was—how could he? He had not seen her since she was a baby, and she would not have recognized him either if she had not already known who he was.

But after that moment, Billy could not take his eyes off Scully, and she knew that he knew something. She gave him one more glance as she handed him a sucker, and he smiled at her and stood there, not wanting to leave. But the sound of his mother's voice dragged him out of his trance. "Come on, Billy, we have to get home so I can cook supper."

He glanced longingly at Scully one more time before waving and turning to walk out hand in hand with his mother.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's notes: Wow, this has been a hard story to write—very heart-wrenching._

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter Four**

Part 1.

At home after the doctor's visit, Lisa found Rick passed out on the couch after a bout of drinking. She breathed a sigh of relief—at least she would not have to deal with the foul mood that inevitably came on when he was drunk. But her relief was short-lived—he woke up as she began making dinner, even though she had tried to work as quietly as possible.

"Where you been?" he said, rubbing his eyes after stumbling through the kitchen door.

"At the doctor's. I…I had to take Billy in…"

"Always the kid." Then he stood up straight, and his demeanor changed just enough to make the hairs on Lisa's arms stand up. "Wait—you took him to the doctor? Don't you realize how risky that is?"

Lisa was chopping green onions, and she began to chop a little faster now. "He had to get shots for school, Rick."

He leaned in closer. "There's ways 'a getting around that, Lisa. What did the doctor find out?"

"Nothing, Rick. She didn't say nothin'."

"Nothing that you know of… She may of already reported us, for all you know!" She didn't respond, and this made him angrier. "Sometimes you just don't think, woman!"

He threw his hands up in the air and turned his back on her, and she breathed out all the air she had been holding in her lungs. But as soon as she did, he turned back to her and grabbed her arm. "What if she figured out about him, huh? That was really stupid."

He raised a hand, but before he released it towards her face, a small voice said, "Leave her alone!"

"Oh, you want some instead, huh?"

"No!" screamed Lisa, but it was too late—Rick had already started after Billy, and she knew that nothing she said would stop him now. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the scene in front of her. But memories of the deals that had been made in the past haunted her.

As Rick removed his belt and folded it in half, she recalled the unique condition that Billy had, and how it had saved her and cursed her at the same time. When Rick had first moved in, he tried to take his anger out on Billy as well as Lisa, but he quickly discovered that Billy was able to physically overpower him, despite the fact that he was only five years old at the time. Lisa could not explain it, but that first encounter between them had led to Rick getting knocked unconscious, while Billy was left unscathed.

But Lisa was afraid that Rick would leave her, and that was unacceptable to her. She had no idea how she would be able to get by as a single mother without Rick to take care of them. So she had talked to Billy, and for the sake of his mother's happiness, he had agreed to take beatings from Rick without complaint. She dreaded each assault, but she knew that Billy would not be seriously injured by the blows—she did not think it was even possible to hurt him severely. And that seemed to satisfy Rick—he rarely laid a hand on Lisa, choosing to take his anger out on Billy instead. But it still did not make it any easier to witness each incident—she knew Billy still felt pain even if the injuries were mild.

So when Billy turned his back to Rick and pulled up his shirt to accept his punishment, Lisa turned her head and cried, even though she knew she would do nothing to stop it.

Part 2.

Now that Scully had real reasons to worry, she knew she had to get closer—she could not let the matter drop. She talked to Billy's school, and they agreed to let her come in on a volunteer basis to treat kids whose parents could not afford medical care. She would probably never be allowed to examine Billy, of course, but maybe she could get close enough to him to talk to him. If not, she would have to keep an eye on him from a distance.

Her first visit to the school was not until a week after she had first examined him. He saw her in the hallway on his way out to recess, and his eyes got wide. He called out to her from across the hall, "Hi, Dr. Scully!"

Scully waved and smiled. She spent the next couple of hours examining children, barely able to contain her excitement at the possibility of interacting with her child. She was beginning to think the opportunity would never arise, when she saw him walking around the classroom after escorting another child in. It was free-play time, and all the children were playing in various stations throughout the room. Billy approached her hesitantly but expectantly, and tugged on her hand when he got close to her.

She kneeled down to talk to him. "Hi Billy. How are you?"

He examined her face for a moment before speaking back to her. "I know you." Her heart fluttered, but dropped when he said, "You were my doctor." She sighed, but he was not done yet. "But I know you another way too."

Her eyes searched his face, and her voice softened. "How is that, Billy?"

But he did not answer, he just looked into her eyes longingly. Perhaps he did not have the right words. Just then the teacher approached them. "Dr. Scully? I didn't know you were examining Billy—is he on the list?"

Scully quickly stood up. "No…no he's not. He was a former patient. Just saying hi." She turned her attention back to Billy. "Billy, it was very nice to see you." But Billy did not answer her, instead he implored her with his eyes. Then he threw his arms around her, and after hesitating, she put her arms on his tiny back. "I'll see you again soon," she said, choking back tears.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's comments: Brace yourselves, this is the worst part. But take heart, because vengeance is on the way._

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter Five**

Part 1.

Scully came back to the school two days later, and once again, looked for opportunities to talk to Billy alone. She walked towards his classroom to get another child to examine, and saw him in the hallway getting a drink of water. When his eyes met hers, he stopped what he was doing and came right to her. He frowned up at her. "Hi Dr. Scully."

He was way too serious for his age. "Hi, Billy," she said, wanting to engage him in a deeper conversation but not knowing how.

"I…I have to tell you something," he said.

She glanced around and, seeing that the hallway was empty, took Billy's hand in hers and hustled him into the nurse's station where she had been performing her exams. She knew she could get in trouble talking to the child without his parents' consent, but she was willing to risk it. She knelt down to his level. "What is it Billy?" Her eyes flitted around his face.

"I…I know who you are."

She smiled as she started to tear up. His innocent face was tugging on her heart-strings, and she had not expected her emotions to run so close to the surface. "And who do you think I am, Billy?"

He looked down at the floor, apparently trying to get the courage to speak. Then he looked at her once again. "You're…my real mom."

She smiled again, but did not answer him. Instead, she said, "Billy, I'm here to help you, because I know you're in trouble. Right?" She nodded, but he did not. "Now, what's going on at home, Billy? It's safe to tell me."

He looked down again, unable to answer. She tried to make it easier for him. If she could just get him to admit to abuse, she could get Child Protective Services involved again, and maybe he would be safe, at least for a little while. "Do you get punished at home?"

He nodded. "How, Billy? How are you punished?" She knew if she put words into his mouth that her claims would not be taken seriously.

Billy kept his gaze on the floor as he said, "My step-dad whoops me."

Scully sighed. "Where?"

"On my back."

"Can I see?"

He nodded. Scully lifted him up to the examination table and lifted his shirt. There were bruises there, as before, only this time they were darker—fresher. She found three distinct bruises in the shape of a rectangle, about the width of a belt. Scully knew she had plenty of evidence to report this to the authorities now.

Part 2.

A social worker from Child Protective Services came to the school that day. After talking to Billy, she decided to talk to Lisa the same day. The social worker would not tell Scully what would happen to Billy. It was times like these that she wished she still had her FBI contacts, so that she could keep herself informed.

But she returned to the school the next week, and snatched Billy into the nurse's station once again—she could not live without knowing what was happening to him. She put him up on the table and asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, eyes wide.

"So what's going on at home?"

He looked at his hands. "Rick left. Mommy's real sad."

Scully sighed. "I know, Billy. But Mommy will be okay. As long as you are okay, that's what's important."

Billy was still looking down, and would not make eye contact with Scully. "Billy, what's the matter?"

He looked up at her finally, and said in a tiny voice, "Am I ever going to see you again?"

It amazed Scully how intuitive this kid was. She pursed her lips before answering. "Yeah, Billy. I think you will."

She had no idea how she would keep that promise, but she had to make sure she followed up on him. Her work was done at the school, but she decided to schedule a follow-up visit a month later for children who needed it.

But before it was time to go back, she got a phone call that made her heart drop into her stomach.

"Dr. Scully," she answered.

An unrecognized female voice spoke to her without identifying herself. "You have to get to the hospital in Halifax. Billy's been admitted there—they don't know if he's going to make it."

Part 3.

Scully felt like she couldn't breathe on the drive down. She tried to steel herself for what she might see in the hospital, but nothing could prepare her for what she found. She walked into the ICU to the sight of William's tiny body lying motionless, tubes coming out of his mouth and nose. His head was bandaged, and the right side of his face was swollen and bruised so bad that he was barely reconizable. Scully put her hand to her mouth to suppress a gasp.

She approached his bed, and took one of his small hands in hers. A doctor walked in just then and appraised her. "Dr. Scully?" he asked. She sniffled and wiped away tears before reaching to shake his hand.

"Yes."

"I understand you were his primary care physician?"

"Yes, that's right."

The doctor's voice softened. "I'm sorry—I know this is not a pleasant sight. We have him stabilized for the most part, but only time will tell the outcome. He's in a coma, due to hemorrhaging in the brain."

Scully's voice was tight. "Did his step-father do this to him?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Where is he now?"

"He ran from the police, and they haven't been able to find him. The mother is in jail. She brought Billy in, but they arrested her shortly after."

Scully nodded, and turned her attention back to her son. "I'll be in the ward if you need me," the doctor said, apparently sensing her need for privacy.

Once the doctor was out of hearing range, Scully said, "William, I'm so sorry." The tears were running freely down her face now. "Please hold on…for me. I'm going to make this right. I'm going to do what I should have done before to protect you—I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's comments: Fun fact—I get most of the titles for my stories from songs. This is in case I get real good at making Youtube videos, so that I can go back and make one for each story I write. So far, I have not been real successful with the vidding thing (although I did make one—do a Youtube search for X-Files: Happy if you want to see my work), so it may have to wait. _

_This particular story was named after a song by Dead Sara. And here's the definition from Urban Dictionary (a favorite resource of mine): Weatherman—someone you beat on a regular basis. It just seemed to fit, in more ways than one. _

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter Six**

Scully's first stop after the hospital was the jail. On the way over, she thought of Mulder, and wondered if she should tell him about their son. He would probably be angry at her for not telling him about the situation earlier, but it was at a critical point now, and she thought maybe it was time for him to know. But then she remembered how hard it was for her the last time he was in prison, on trial for murder, and she knew it was likely that he would be in exactly the same position now if she told him what was going on.

But that gave her an idea.

At the jail, she was allowed to visit with Lisa. The woman's eyes were downcast, but it was hard to tell if she felt guilty about her son or was just upset that she was in jail. Scully could not imagine that a mother in her position would not feel remorse, but then she had seen more than one sociopath cold-hearted enough to sacrifice their own children for selfish reasons.

Lisa eyed Scully with suspicion. "Dr. Scully, what are you doing here?"

Scully cleared her throat. She was having a hard time withholding judgment, but she did her best to keep her voice level. "I just wanted to find out what happened. I know it's none of my business, but as Billy's doctor…"

"It's okay." Lisa waved a dismissive hand. "You're the one person who might believe me anyway."

"Believe what?"

Lisa appeared to choke up a bit, but Scully wondered if it was just a show. "Well, you examined him. Did you notice anything…unusual about him?"

Scully thought she knew what Lisa was talking about, but she did not want to lead her in any way. "Like…?"

"Well, you know. Like how strong he is?"

Scully nodded. "Yeah, I saw that his muscles seemed to be especially well-developed for his age."

"Yeah, well—he's a regular Hercules alright." Lisa looked at Scully's face for the first time, and Scully saw a twinkle in her eyes that she could not understand. "Do you know, the first time Rick went after Billy, he got what-for." Scully shook her head, indicating that she did not understand. "Yeah, Billy was only five, but still—he was somehow able to take Rick down. I didn't understand it at the time, but then I figured out that he has the strength of a man in the body of a child."

Scully shook her head again. "I don't understand—if he was so strong, how was Rick able to get away with spanking him so hard?"

Lisa looked away, and now she was the one shaking her head. "That was my doing." Her voice cracked. "I didn't know—I thought he could take it, being as he was so tough and all." At first Scully thought she was talking about Rick, but then she realized Lisa was still talking about Billy. "He took those beatings for me, so that I wouldn't have to lose Rick."

Lisa started to quietly cry, but Scully looked away, because she did not feel one ounce of empathy for this woman right now. If she understood what Lisa was telling her, it meant that the mother not only knew about the beatings, but she allowed them to happen so that she could keep her abusive asshole of a man.

Lisa gained her composure and continued. "Always in the past, Rick would hit him just hard enough to hurt him a little. Like a dog getting smacked with a rolled up newspaper, you know?" Scully felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristling. "I guess he knew that if he pushed too far, Billy might fight back, and he would be in for it. But after Billy caused him to have to leave when he told about the abuse…" Scully bit her lip to stop herself from interrupting. What she really wanted to do was slap this woman across the face—maybe smack some sense into her. "…Rick was so upset about it that when he came back, he beat Billy so bad. He wanted to see that child dead, the way he was hittin' him."

Lisa closed her eyes, recalling the events leading up to Billy's hospitalization. "I thought he could take it. I thought that if he couldn't that he would fight back. But I guess he cared too much about his mama…"

Scully could not hear any more of this. She abruptly stood up, causing her chair to scrape loudly across the concrete floor as she did. She began to pace, and then said, "And where is Rick now?"

"I…I don't know."

Scully could contain herself no longer. She raced to the woman and grabbed her by the shirt. "Don't lie to me, you piece of shit. You know _exactly _where he is. Why are you protecting this scumbag? This man who beat up a little boy—_your _little boy? What kind of mother are you?"

A guard appeared as if by magic, and Scully let go of Lisa's shirt. Lisa looked at the guard and said, "It's okay, I'm fine."

The guard stood his ground, but did not make Scully leave, perhaps knowing what Lisa was there for. Lisa looked Scully in the eye and said through clenched teeth, "You dare judge me? I know who you are."

Lisa must have seen shock register on Scully's face, because she said, "Yeah, that's right. Billy told me. He kept saying you were his real mom, and at first I didn't believe him. But then I realized that it explained so much—like how you connected with him instantly when you first saw him, and why you showed up at his school like that." Lisa looked down at her hands now. "Yeah, I guess we both got reasons to have guilty consciences, huh? You ask how I could let Rick do what I did? Well, I used to wonder how someone could give up their own child for no reason…"

Lisa was not able to get the rest of the words out, because Scully grabbed her collar so tight that Lisa was practically choking. The words that Scully hissed next were blurred by the rage in her head. "Don't you _ever_ say that to me again-you sad excuse for a mother. I had good reasons to do what I did, to protect William. You had _nothing _but your own interest in mind when you allowed a small child to be pummeled into a coma, you heartless bitch…I hope you rot in hell."

And then the guard was there, holding Scully's arms so that she could not do any further damage to the prisoner. Scully sent one last dagger-filled glare in Lisa's direction before the guard directed her out of the cell.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's notes: Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned…as a mother, I can't say I would do the same thing, but I know I would feel like it. BTW, I have noticed a few holes in my story, which I am too lazy to go back and correct at this point. So it is what it is, I don't think it's too devastating, and probably nobody will notice. _

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter Seven**

Part 1.

Scully's rage propelled her to her next stop—the building where the Lone Gunmen liked to hide out. In their lair, she tapped her foot while waiting for them to come up with leads on Rick Dupont's whereabouts. "Does Mulder know you're doing this?" asked Byers.

"No, and he's not going to find out from you."

"Boy, this guy does not know how to stay on the down low," said Langley, staring at the computer screen. "Not only does he still have his cell phone on him, but he used a credit card to pay for this place." He handed Scully a piece of paper with an address on it.

"Thanks guys," she said. "Remember, not a word." The three of them nodded simultaneously.

"Call us if you need anything else, Scully," said Frohike. "And for God's sake, be careful."

She knew they would not have kept their word if she had told them what she was really planning. All they knew was that she wanted to find out where the guy was, not that she intended to take action.

Scully called a former contact at the FBI, who put her in touch with a small arms dealer. She needed something lethal, but also quiet. She found just the weapon she needed, and headed to Rick's hideout.

Part 2.

After leaving the prison where Scully was being kept, Mulder went home and looked in the closet, just like she had told him to do. He found a shoebox filled with papers, and he began to rifle through each one. He saw a picture of William as a baby, and then he studied a picture of an older child—a young boy. Could it be?

Slowly, he began to piece together the story of their son—the adoption, his home life up to this point, the investigations of abuse by Child Protective Services. And then he saw some hand-written notes by Scully—they were written on the forms she used to document her patients' treatment, but it quickly became clear that these were not meant to be professional records. She left the patient's name off, but he knew who she was talking about.

Passage after passage revealed more about the evolution of her thought processes. "Patient displays adult-like muscle tone…", "…appears to have suffered physical abuse at the hands of an adult, evident in the belt-shaped bruises on his back…", "…patient seems to recognize my real relation to him," "patient has been beaten into a coma with the knowledge and implicit consent of his mother," and finally, "I have failed to protect my son. I can no longer sit by, my heart torn into pieces, while he suffers in silence after making such a selfless sacrifice. As his mother, I have to make things right and eliminate the evil man who hurt him."

Mulder read the last sentence one more time. Then he pulled a lighter from his pocket and set fire to the incriminating document. After sorting through Scully's account of the events leading up to this moment, Mulder stared into space while trying to process his feelings. There was plenty of anger present, to be sure. How could she keep such an important matter from him for so long, even after things had escalated to this point?

And then the thought of their son's suffering finally registered fully, and he began to cry. If only she had told him, he could be in her place and she would be free to comfort William.

But there was _something _he could do.

Part 3.

Scully rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling of her cell. She recalled how she had climbed the stairs to Rick's room that fateful night. She could not conjure up all of the events leading up to his death—apparently she had blacked out some of the memories. As she approached his bedroom, all she could think of was her angel lying quietly in his hospital bed. There was no feeling in her body—no emotions, no sensations, she only felt emptiness.

She kicked open his bedroom door—not because she had to, but just for emphasis. She could have just walked up and killed him in his sleep, but then he wouldn't suffer.

"Wha! Huh?" he said as he sat up in bed.

She pointed the gun straight at his head, although she doubted he would be able to see it in the dark. "Rick Dupont," she said. She had to be absolutely sure she had the right man.

"Yeah? What is this? Who are…"

But by this time she had made it to the side of the bed and had cold-cocked him in the head with her gun. With all the adrenaline running through her body, the blow was as strong as that of a professional boxer. "This is for Billy, you son of a bitch."

The next few minutes were a blur, Scully's fury taking control of her senses so that her sole focus was on inflicting pain on the figure in front of her. He was too dazed by the initial blow to his head to resist. She remembered pummeling his face over and over again, the gun still in her hand—she had no idea how much time passed while she threw those punches.

She maliciously ripped huge chunks of hair out of his head, and when he put his hand up to defend himself, she bit down on it so hard that she felt chunks of skin coming loose in her teeth. Then she returned to his face and attacked every bit of it, using her nails and fists and even gouging at his eyes with her fingertips.

The contact between Scully and her target felt almost intimate—there was a satisfaction in the feeling of his flesh meeting her fists. It produced a calm within her that surprised her. She continued the assault until he was no longer moving beneath her. She had no idea whether or not he was still alive, but once she could no longer hear his cries of agony, her sense of gratification disappeared, and she knew it was time to finish what she had started. She raised the gun to his head, and after only a second or two of hesitation, she fired the fatal round into his head and watched his body slump.

Scully awoke from her trance-like state then, and for the first time she noticed something—blood. She could not see very well in the darkness, but there were glistening pools of it everywhere, and she knew what it was. Horrified at the results of the devastation from her own hands, she dropped her gun and rushed out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's comments: Hey, thanks guys for the comments! I love love love them, good or bad. And Snakey, to answer your question, I am working as fast as I can—have patience. My schedule's pretty tight now with student teaching _and _working an almost full-time job. I'm gonna try and finish this one up this weekend so nobody has to be kept in suspense for too long…_

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter 8**

Part 1.

When Scully got out to her car, she sat in shock with her hands frozen on the wheel. She was unaware of how long she sat there—it could have been a few minutes or a few hours. The worst part was that she had nowhere to go, nobody to help her process what had just happened. Or, more precisely, what she had done.

The thought of Mulder did come up several times. But how could she even begin to tell him everything that had occurred over the last couple of months leading up to the last couple of hours? He would be furious at her, and she could not handle that emotionally right now.

She felt raw. The only thing she could think to do was start the car and drive to an as-yet-unknown destination. She passed an apartment building and saw a dumpster, which jarred her attention enough to remind her that she had some unfinished business. She removed her blood-stained clothes and, under cover of darkness, changed into other clothes she had brought, and then dumped the former into the dumpster. She decided to follow up on her actions by taking further steps to cover her tracks. She sat, dazed, in the car for a while longer, and then moved on to a gas station to wash the blood from her hands in the public restroom.

Her mind was empty as she got back in her car. And then a memory came back to her—of the gun falling from her hands just as she hurried out of Rick's apartment. Her eyes widened when she realized her mistake, just before she saw flashing lights pulling up behind her car.

Part 2.

The police who showed up at the crime scene had found Scully's gun, of course, and although they could not trace it back to her through her purchase, they had found her prints everywhere. If she had been trying to evade discovery, she would have taken all the necessary precautions, and she knew what they all were. But she had been more concerned about getting the job done, and had not been cautious in the slightest.

And that was how she found herself surrounded by police cars, easing her way out of her car and lying flat on the ground, waiting to be handcuffed roughly by the police. But she knew better than to say anything, and she did not feel like talking at any rate. A detective entered the interrogation room where she sat staring blankly at the barren wall, and as soon as he uttered his first words, she said, "I want to speak to an attorney."

He replied with, "Ms. Scully, you know you're in a lot of trouble…"

She interrupted forcefully. "Just let me call my attorney."

They both knew that if he continued to interrogate her, the testimony could be thrown out. Reluctantly, he sighed and left the room.

Part 3.

Two days after Mulder left Scully alone in her cell, he had not yet returned. She assumed that he was keeping his distance because he was angry at her for not telling him about William, and she fell into an even greater depression. She was facing life in prison, which meant that she could not be there for William in his time of need, and even if he recovered, she might never see him again. And now she had lost her only other source of support in this world—the man she loved.

Scully had no motivation to do anything—she had to force herself to move her body, which felt like it was weighted down with bricks, off the cot and to whatever location the guards directed her. The only thoughts she had were of William—otherwise her mind was a blank most of the time. Lying on her cot, her comatose fugue was interrupted by a guard summoning her. She dragged herself off the bed and allowed him to lead her, handcuffed, to an unforeseen location.

As soon as she entered the cafeteria where visitation was allowed, she noticed the most obvious person in the room, and the man accompanying him. She saw the four foot tall frame of William, and her tears started flowing before she could even take a step towards him. When she knelt down in front of him and moved her hands towards his face, the guard started towards her to keep her from touching him, but Mulder made an aggressive gesture towards the guard, which stopped him in his tracks. Scully put her hands up to William's smiling face, as if to test whether he was real or just an apparition. "Oh my God," she gasped, "How…?"

She looked up at Mulder now, who was beaming brightly. "I found him in the hospital, and I thought you might need a visitor."

She was perplexed, but she did not let that stop her from wrapping her arms around William's miniature frame and holding him tightly until the tears stopped coming. When she pulled away, he was still clinging on tightly to her, and she rested her hand on his head as she stood to eye level with Mulder once again. "Mulder," she whispered, and fought back tears again.

He put his hands to her face, and wiped away an errant tear with the stroke of his fingers. But she wrinkled her forehead in confusion, and said, "How is he even standing right now? Mulder, he was comatose, beaten so badly that he was barely recognizable, and now I don't even see a bruise on him."

Mulder shook his head. "The doctors don't know, Scully. They said they had never seen someone heal so quickly. Even they are claiming it was a miracle." His eyes reflected the concern he felt about her. "Are you okay, Scully? I was worried about you when I found out everything that had happened. And the fact that Lisa is here in the same prison with you…" He ran a hand through her hair.

Scully's eyebrows lowered. "What? I didn't realize she was here—the last time I talked to her she was still in the Fairfax County Jail."

"She got transferred here yesterday, right after her arraignment."

Scully felt the tug of a hand on her orange shirt, and looked down to see William staring up at her with pleading eyes. She knelt down beside him. "What is it, Billy?" she said softly.

"Am I going home with you?" he asked. His voice was full of desperation, and she imagined he must be scared and in need of some stability after losing the only mother he had ever known and his home, all at the same time.

Her voice was tender, and it felt so natural to talk to him this way, as if he had not been gone all these years. "No, Billy, I'm sorry. But Mr. Mulder here will make sure that you have a safe place to stay, with good people."

His voice turned into a whine. "Nooo…I want to stay with you!"

"Billy…"

"Billy!" Another woman's voice rang out from across the room, and all heads turned to see Lisa, who had obviously been on her way to work duty when she saw her son.

"Mommy!" But before William could run to Lisa with outstretched hands, her eyes flitted from William to Scully, and she gritted her teeth in rage. She lunged across the room and passed by her own son to tackle Scully with hands around her neck, knocking her to the floor. Scully had barely had time to register Lisa's presence before she found herself on the ground, with Lisa on top of her trying to strangle her.

She could hear William screaming, "Mommy, no!" But Lisa's hands grasped her throat so tightly that she could not breathe, and she felt herself beginning to weaken from lack of oxygen.

And then someone was pulling Lisa off her, and when she sat up she expected to see Mulder restraining the woman, but he was standing over Scully, mouth open in shock. Scully looked towards Lisa and saw a truly amazing sight—Billy with his arms wrapped around Lisa, holding her arms against her sides so tight that she could not move.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's comments: Wow, what a busy week. It's so nice to get back to writing again. Enjoy…_

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter Nine**

Part 1.

All madness ensued after William pulled his mother off Scully. The guards rushed in, but then hesitated when they saw that a little boy was all that kept Lisa from going psycho on the agent-turned-prisoner. The hesitation only lasted a moment, and then one of the guards tried to grab Lisa, but that caused William to let go of her and lunge after the guard, tackling him to the ground. Another guard jumped in and tried to save his buddy by restraining William, but that only made him madder, and he threw the guard off him and kicked the one on the ground, causing him to yowl in pain.

Mulder yelled at the guards, "Forget the kid—get her!" He pointed to Lisa, who was about to jump in to help her child.

Scully took in the commotion and decided what she needed to do next. "Billy!" she yelled, trying to raise her voice over the ruckus. It was clear he did not hear her—he was pounding away with his fists at the guard on the ground, who was trying to defend himself but was obviously in a lot of pain. She screamed even louder. "Billy!"

That got his attention, and he stopped what he was doing to look up at her. "Billy, stop. Come to me," she said, as calmly as she could. "Please," she added.

The second guard had regained his balance and was standing with arms held out at the ready, trying to decide what to do next. Another group of guards could be heard running towards them, with metal clanking and boots stomping. Lisa knelt down to William's level and said, "Please, Billy, just let them be…I'm going to go with them—you just do what the guards ask you to." Billy looked from Lisa to Scully. The second guard spoke now. "Come on, son. Let's go."

"Don't hurt him," Lisa said. William hung his head and started to walk towards the guard, but broke away and ran to Scully, gripping her in a tight hug. Scully looked up at Mulder, who said, "I'll make sure he's okay." Scully pulled away from William and said, "Go with the guards now, Billy. It's okay." She tried her best to put on a reassuring smile, but had to fight back tears.

He stood for a moment, but ultimately he turned and walked towards the guard standing the closest to his mother. She grabbed his hand and put it in the guard's, and he led the young boy away.

Mulder put his hand to Scully's face. "Are you okay?" She nodded and cast one last glance his way before going toward a waiting guard.

Part 2.

But she knew very well that she was not okay. She wanted so badly to be with her child. She felt like she had abandoned him once already, and now the guilt was eating away at her for not being able to be there for him once again. Not to mention that she missed Mulder horribly. And last but not least was the fact that she had killed a man in cold blood, and while some might feel that her actions were justified, she knew in her heart that she had committed murder.

A murderer. That was what she was. Once before, she had killed an unarmed man, but it had been partially out of fear of that man and what he might do to her if he got loose again, and at least she could claim that she had been traumatized by that same man right before the killing. But she could not say that with Rick. She had sought him out, hunted him down like a deer. Used her bare hands to draw blood. It was difficult to erase the memories of glistening puddles shining in the dark.

It was almost unbearable waiting of word from Mulder. It was not like she could just use the phone to call him whenever she wanted. She had to wait until the following day, when he came to see her once again. She wrapped her arms around him first thing this time, and he said gently, "Hey, how are you doing?"

She looked up at him and said, "Well, you know." He looked into her eyes, as if trying to read her mind. She couldn't take the silence any longer, so she asked, "What's going on with William?"

Mulder looked down, and when he looked back up, he flashed the hint of a smile. "I pulled some strings…"

"Mulder, what did you do?" She could hardly contain her anticipation.

"I, um…I got temporary custody of him."

Her mouth fell open. "What? How?"

He put one hand to her shoulder and allowed her hair to rest on top of it. "Don't you worry about that." His eyes searched hers again, and his mouth formed a thin line. "But seriously, how are they treating you in here?"

She diverted her eyes again. He continued when she didn't answer. "Hang in there Scully. I'm going to whatever I can to get you out of here."

"But do I really deserve that, Mulder?"

"Hey," he said, trying to get her to look at him. Finally he laid a finger on her chin and directed her face towards him. "Hey, you did what any mother do. You're not a common criminal who belongs in prison. He might have gotten away if you hadn't…"

"But I could have called in his location," she shot back. "I didn't have to go to that extreme."

"He might have gotten away, Scully," he said, meeting her gaze directly. "He might have hurt other children. Even if he didn't…" Mulder sighed when he noticed the volume in his own voice rising. "Even if he didn't, he deserved what he got."

Part 3.

Scully knew she had no good defense, legally at least, for her actions. When she was offered a plea bargain of twenty years, she became even more despondent, knowing she was going to take it. Mulder pleaded with her to turn down the deal, but she might get life without parole if she was found guilty of pre-meditated homicide. Mulder's eyes pleaded with her through the clear window from the visitation cubicle. "At least put on a defense, Scully. Let a jury hear what he did."

She puckered her lips and stared at her hands. Her voice was flat as she said, "Why, Mulder? All the evidence points to the fact that I thought about this and planned it out. There's no way I'll get anything less than second degree murder. I'm almost guaranteed to get at least twenty years. I might as well take it."

"Scully, you don't deserve to pay that much of a price…"

Her volume stayed the same but her voice was sharp. "You don't get it Mulder—I don't have a choice. My fate is set."

He watched her as she stared at him through the window, her face desperate. He put a hand up to the barrier between them, and she did the same, until the voice of a guard said, "Visitation's over—let's go."


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's comments: Geez, so sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter out! I actually had it written a week ago, but I kept thinking I wanted to finish the story while I was at it. But when re-reading it, I realized that this is probably a good stopping point, so here it is. This is probably going to turn into kind of an AU story (as if it's not already)._

**The Weatherman**

**Chapter Ten**

Part 1.

The day of Scully's plea bargain hearing came, and she had fully prepared to meet her destiny. Prison was not easy. She was always afraid she would run into someone who knew her past, that she had been an FBI agent. She spent much of her time avoiding Lisa, who she saw giving her disparaging looks from across the cafeteria more than once. She had a suspicion that the woman was planning something, because she had buddied up with a group of large, buff women.

It was true that Scully could hold her own, but not if she was outnumbered. So far, she had only been bothered by a couple of women, and it had been limited to mild teasing. But she often saw inmates looking at her as if she was lunchmeat just waiting to be eaten. She did not know the details of their intentions, but she could guess the general idea.

So it was with a heavy heart that Scully stepped into the courtroom that day, ready to accept her future of darkened corridors and broken dreams. She looked around and saw Mulder sitting in the audience, and he turned and watched her walk towards the front with downtrodden eyes.

Everybody stood when the judge walked out in a black robe, and he said, "Ms. Scully, it is my understanding that you have agreed to plead guilty to the charge of second degree murder."

Scully answered in a flat voice, "Yes, sir."

"Have you had a chance to read over the agreement, and has your lawyer advised you that you may receive a lesser sentence if you were to go to trial?"

"Yes, sir."

Just as she finished addressing the judge, the courtroom doors opened, and a young man in his twenties approached her attorney and whispered something in his ear.

The judge ignored the new person in the room and said, "Well, in that case…"

"Your Honor," interrupted Scully's attorney, "We have received some new information that might change the defendant's plea."

Scully stared at her attorney in disbelief. "I will give you a moment to talk to your client," said the judge.

In hushed tones, her attorney explained what the younger man had told him. Scully nodded, and they discussed her options. Then he took some time to talk to the prosecuting attorney across the room, and she could see hands flying and heads shaking as they argued over the new developments. The prosecutor got on his cell phone, and paced in agitation while he made several calls. Then he spoke with Scully's attorney once again, all the while displaying a look of resignation.

Blood rushed through Scully's veins and she experienced a surge of energy as the court was called to order once again. She felt as if she was in a dream. The prosecuting attorney spoke. Scully looked back at Mulder, who was spellbound. "Your Honor, it has come to our attention that there is some missing evidence in this case. Apparently, the body of the victim cannot be found."

"Oh?" The judge's mouth formed a circle. "I suppose you plan to try the case on circumstantial evidence? I understand you have the weapon that was used…"

"Not any more, your Honor. It's missing from the evidence room."

The judge sighed. "I'm going to give forty-eight hours for the evidence to turn up, and if it doesn't, I'm going to allow the defense to bring a motion to dismiss."

Part 2.

Scully was released after two days. The first face she saw when leaving the prison was that of Mulder, who was grinning from ear to ear. In a heartbeat, he was within reach of her and there was the motion of arms embracing, lips meeting, and hands stroking each other's hair as they relished the physical closeness that they had both missed over these last few weeks. It was something they had both felt they would not get to experience again, at least not on a regular basis.

Nestled into Mulder's arms again, she dared to let go long enough to look up at him and ask, "Did you have something to do with this?"

His eyebrows lowered even as his smile lingered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what happened to all the evidence against me?"

His mouth opened as he realized what she was asking. He thought for a minute and then said, "I don't know—really, Scully. I wish I had that kind of power, but you know I'm not exactly in any kind of position to do that."

She scratched her head. "I wonder who, then…" She let the question drop.

They walked hand in hand to an underground parking garage where Mulder had left his car, and Scully felt a giddiness that was nearly unfamiliar to her. She supposed it came from being in a position of sheer hopelessness, and then having it all lift in the blink of an eye. It didn't hurt that the man she loved was waiting to sweep her away to their home, and that her long lost child was waiting for her there.

As they rounded a turn in the garage, a figure stepped out of the shadows, causing Scully to startle and Mulder to stop dead in his tracks, arms out and ready to take on any threat. As the person stepped out into the light, Scully saw that it was a woman, and she had no weapon in her hands.

"Dr. Scully," said the woman. Her expression was unreadable. "My name is Sharon Glenn. I need to talk to you."

"Wh-what about?" Scully suddenly felt very fragile again. She did not know if she could handle any more surprises.

"William." Sharon's face still lacked expression, which made Scully nervous. She could feel Mulder tensing next to her.

Scully did not reply, so Sharon continued. "You need to make sure he stays with you, and you need to protect him. There are those who would like to take custody of him and use him for their own purposes."

Scully felt like shaking her head, but she resisted. Flashbacks entered her head of a time when she could not protect the infant William, when around every corner was someone trying to kidnap him. She did not feel ready to handle that scenario once again. She changed the subject. "Who are you? Who do you work for?"

Sharon paused before answering. "Let's just say, I am in a position to help you. In fact, I already have."

Scully had thought her voice sounded familiar. Now she knew why. This was the very same person who had tipped her off to the danger that William had faced. Scully looked down at the ground thoughtfully, lips puckered. Finally she spoke to the woman who had possibly saved her son from sudden death. "And the evidence against me…?"

Sharon nodded. Scully did as well. "So…where do we go from here? I don't feel like I can protect him. When he was a baby…"

She stopped as she felt herself beginning to choke up. She felt Mulder's arm around her shoulder, and she thought she saw a hint of sympathy in Sharon's otherwise stoic face. "But this time you have help, and I think you'll find that the protection we can offer is impenetrable."


End file.
